A Hero's Origin
by silverphoenix00
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is a ballet dancer trying to make his way in the world, but when he comes across a mysterious old man on the streets of St. Petersburg, he becomes entangled in something far greater than himself.


The air inside of the ballet studio was crisp and every surface was chilled to the touch. Faint piano music floated down the hall from behind a firmly closed door, bouncing off the unpainted brick and barely audible to the untrained ear. But Yuuri Katsuki seemed to be acutely aware and unaware of his surroundings all at once. The young Japanese dancer could feel how the air brushed against his skin and left goosebumps in its wake, but had long tuned out the taunting musical notes that he'd heard, and practiced to, hundreds upon thousands of times in favor of listening to the scathing inner thoughts of his self-consciousness. His audition to Lilia Baranovskaya's ballet company, which had been long since over, had gone poorly, to say the least.

So much had been riding on the audition - his future as a ballerina, his mentor's reputation, his determination to prove his family's faith in him wasn't misplaced - and he'd completely botched it all. He'd failed and he didn't need the audition results to prove it. The longer he sat in the hallway, the more missteps and off beats and errors he counted in his performance. He'd come to the solid conclusion that there was no way the callback was coming. The competition was too stiff, too perfect, and he'd made too many mistakes to even be considered good enough. That's what he got for thinking he'd ever be good enough to dance with Viktor Nikiforov - disappointment and defeat.

Yuuri managed to pull himself off of the floor, wanting to leave before anyone - especially Viktor - saw him moping around. The last thing Yuuri wanted was pity. It made him think of how much disappointment he'd caused to those who had believed in him so much. With his dance bag slung over his shoulder, Yuuri Katsuki left the building housing the Baranovskaya Company and stepped onto the snow-covered sidewalks of St. Petersburg.

As the winter wind whipped harshly at him, Yuuri buried his face deeper into his scarf, clutched his bag closer, and began to trek his way home. The swirling snow wasn't that bad, Yuuri had certainly seen worse in his time living in Russia, but it was quickly growing in force. According to the weather forecast, it wasn't supposed to get that bad, but at the same time the weather forecast that morning hadn't called for snow at all. Regardless of the weather, Yuuri ducked his head and kept his eyes glued to the sidewalk in front of him, concentrating on not slipping on a patch of hidden ice.

It was only by pure luck that Yuuri saw him.

He'd glanced up from the sidewalk for a second, because of what he didn't know, and caught a glimpse of an older man bent over a pile of scattered groceries. The man looked homeless and people simply brushed past him without a second glance. The coat he wore was in tatters and the fedora covering his head looked like it was on its last leg, but the groceries at his feet looked freshly bought and the ripped bags in his hands blew gently when the wind caught them.

Yuuri didn't have the heart to just leave him there, despite the day he had.

Cautiously, and before he could overthink anything, Yuuri approached the stranger.

"Excuse me," he began politely, trying to get the man's attention without startling him. The man looked up at him and his stern look pierced deeply into Yuuri's soul, "Ummm, do you need help?"

The man huffed and nodded firmly, "Yes. The bags broke on my way home."

Yuuri kneeled down next to him and took the ripped plastic bags from the stranger, giving him a soft smile as he did so. Yuuri couldn't say he'd ever been in this man's situation, but he'd certainly want the help if he was. He tied the ripped end of the bags together and, with the help of the old man, placed the groceries back into the bags. The gesture had only taken a couple of moments, yet Yuuri couldn't help but feel lighter because of it.

"Thank you, young man," the stranger said as he hefted the bags into his arms.

Yuuri gave the man another smile, "Of course, it was no problem at all."

For a fleeting moment, Yuuri thought he saw the corner of the man's mouth twitch upwards. "This weather is strange, is it not?"

"Ummm, I wouldn't know...I've only lived in St. Petersburg for a couple of weeks."

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. "Please, take this. I have a feeling you will need it."

"Oh, no," Yuuri protested immediately. "I don't need anything…"

"Please," the other man repeated, pushing the box into Yuuri's hands, "I insist."

Hesitantly, Yuuri took the box, immediately running his fingers over the intricate red designs carved into the black wood. He went to open the lid, but was stopped instantly. "Don't open it until you are alone at home."

Confused at the words, Yuuri looked back up at the man. Only to find him gone.

More confused than he already was, the dancer quickly scanned the surrounding streets for the man and, once again, came up empty. Unsure if he should stay to search further, Yuuri hesitantly returned to his apartment, box in hand.

Even after the man's warnings about being alone, Yuuri spent several hours in his apartment simply staring at the mysterious box, waiting for it to do something. Despite his curiosity, he was hesitant to open it, afraid that it would contain something illegal or, absolute worst-case scenario, blow up in his face and kill him. But it was better than sitting alone and letting his anxiety gnaw at him over a callback email that would never come.

Steeling himself, Yuuri opened the lid to the box and saw...a pair of earrings.

Yuuri couldn't help but feel a little flash of disappointment. The earrings seemed simple enough - decorated with a ladybug pattern - and, even though Yuuri could wear them thanks to piercings he'd gotten on a whim one drunken college night, the old man had, perhaps inadvertently, built up a hype for the box's contents.

That was before a blinding ball of red light materialized out of thin air.

Yuuri would've liked to have thought that his final living moments would've been more dignified, but instead of meeting his death head on, Yuuri threw himself back in his chair, fell onto the floor, and cursed the old man for gifting him whatever-the-hell type of bomb that was about to kill him.

But death never came.

Instead, he was met with a small, shy-sounding voice. "Hello, Yuuri!"

Yuuri cracked open his eyes, which he hadn't even remembered closing, and immediately decided that, instead of dying, he was hallucinating. Because no sane person saw a big, talking, ladybug-resembling bug without taking some sort of drug. Yuuri supposed getting high was better than dying in a horrible explosion.

"I'm Tikki!" the floating bug said cheerfully.

Yuuri opened his mouth, but no words came out. Should he talk to his hallucination? Was that healthy?

The little hallucination - Tikki - giggled. "You're not hallucinating, I promise. You have been chosen by Master Feltsman to be my wielder."

Yuuri stared at Tikki, still completely lost for words.

"I am the kwami of creation and I power the earrings in the box. They are called a Miraculous and, with them, you can transform into the superhero known as Ladybug..."

Yuuri's brain went blank with noise, still trying to decide whether or not Tikki was a hallucination. Did it say something about superheroes?

"Ladybug has a special power, called Lucky Charm, which can be used once per transformation. When you use this power, you will only have a couple minutes before you transform back..."

Was Tikki still talking? Was it rude that Yuuri was still stuck trying to process the... what had it called itself? A kwami?

"Together, you and your partner, Chat Noir, will defend the world from an evil organization trying to steal the Miraculous' and experiment on them."

"What- How- Huh?"

Oh, words were working again. Great.

Tikki turned towards Yuuri expectantly, waiting for him to continue his questions.

"I'm going crazy."

Tikki giggled again and flew closer towards him. "Just the opposite actually! You were chosen because of your sound mind and open heart. Only you can fulfill this role Yuuri."

"Why?"

"Only Master Feltsman can know that answer, but I trust in his judgement and, now, yours."

"I-I can't do this! I can barely get my own life together, much less save the world!"

Tikki gave him a look of amusement that glinted with ancient wisdom. "I once knew a girl who thought the same, but I promise to be there all along the way to guide you."

There was a long stretch of silence before Tikki spoke again. "You still don't believe me."

"No."

"What if I could prove that everything that's happening is real?"

Yuuri stared hard at the kwami. Part of him hoped it was real and part of him wanted to curl up into bed and wait till the drugs affect wore off.

"Can you?"

"Your partner, Chat Noir, will be waiting for you on the highest tower of the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood. If you talk to them, they can tell you that the same thing happened to them."

Well, what did Yuuri have to lose?

He gave the kwami a nod and shakily stood up from the floor.

"Before you transform, I will warn you not to tell Chat Noir of your identity. It's dangerous for both of you, especially if one of you gets captured."

"Okay," Yuuri said, not even wanting to worry about the 'evil corporation' that Tikki had been rambling about before. "How do I transform?"

"All you have to do is put on the earrings and say 'Tikki, Spots On!'"

If Yuuri really was hallucinating, then it was extremely convincing. The transformation sequence he'd gone through had come...surprisingly natural to him. His clothes had disappeared and been replaced by a form fitting, spotted suit, his hair had been slicked back out of his face, and a precariously placed masked had appeared on his face. Funnily enough, the weirdest part was the yoyo. Yuuri, despite being a dancer, was known to be extremely clumsy. He tripped over his feet, accidentally broke things, stumbled over his words. So how in the world he was expected to expertly work a yoyo he had no idea.

But everything came easily, like he'd been doing it his entire life, and soon he found himself flying Spiderman-style through the streets of St. Petersburg. It was oddly liberating. The wind rushing through his hair, the snow flying past him in flurries, and the weightlessness of flight settled something inside of him.

The Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood was one of St. Petersburg's most notable attractions. The colorful spirals of the cathedral were stark against the skyline during the day and glowed ethereally at night, helping each spiral to pierce the sky.

Yuuri found him on the highest tower, just as Tikki has said he would. It was a man, perched carefully on the dome and looking down at the streets below them. He was clad in solid black, with highlights of bright green running down the seams and cat ears poking out of his silver hair. Behind him laid a tail, seemingly made out of a belt.

Yuuri approached slowly, making use of his light feet and trying not to startle the stranger.

"Chat Noir?"

Even with his back turned, Yuuri could see the man tense and carefully turn around to meet him. He was meet with a piercing blue gaze amid the darkness and a cock of the head.

"Ladybug?" Yuuri's partner asked back, standing to meet him. There was a tense, awkward moment of silence where the two men simply stared at one another, unsure of what to make of the other. Then, a wide smile cracked itself onto Chat Noir's face and he bounded up to Yuuri excitedly. "I started to think you weren't coming!" The cat clad superhero held out a clawed hand. "I'll be your partner, Chat Noir."

"It's nice to meet you," the dancer said, taking his hand and trying desperately to keep the blush off of his face. Another awkward silence fell between the two and Yuuri couldn't help but feel it was entirely his fault.

By the time Yuuri got back to his apartment, he was exhausted. He'd firmly concluded that 1) he hadn't been hallucinating and 2) Chat Noir was a huge flirt. The awkward silence between the two heroes had quickly turned to light banter and flirting that Yuuri easily, and surprisingly, fell into.

It wasn't long after he'd thrown himself into his bed that the light of his phone lit up the darkened room. Yuuri scooped it up from his bedside table and resisted falling asleep before he read the message. It was an email. From Lilia Baranovskaya.

"Congratulations!" it began.

It seemed like all sorts of unbelievable things were happening today.

* * *

Hello everyone and Happy Holidays (and Happy Birthday to my boy, Viktor)! This is my gift to Asagi for the YOI Secret Skater Gift Exchange, so I hope that you like it! I just finished the third season of Miraculous Ladybug, so I saw this prompt, fell in love, and had to write it.


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